"Dorothy," her friend begged, "it's the only stipulation he's made, and I don't think it would be fair to break it." "You don't trust me," Dorothy complained. "My dear, it isn't that; but I certainly should have to tell him that I told you, and I'm sure he wouldn't like it. After all, we ought to be very grateful for this jolly flat where we're perfectly free and have nothing to bother about. Remember what happened to Psyche." Dorothy was inclined to add "and also to Fatima"; but since she could not pretend that the great man did in any way remind her of Bluebeard and since the flat undoubtedly was delightful, she did her best to restrain her curiosity, even though sometimes it irritated her like prickly heat. "It's a pity he had to go away to write his letters at a club," she said. "But he couldn't write from this address." "No, but we could keep some plain paper for him," said Dorothy. "And that reminds me, what is your crest?" Olive looked alarmed. "I don't think I've got a crest," she said. "My father's a solicitor in Warwickshire." "Warwickshire?" repeated Dorothy. "That's an odd coincidence. I wonder if he knows Lord Cleveden." Olive shook her head vaguely. "He knows a good deal about Warwickshire; in fact, he's writing a book called _Warwickshire Worthies_. He's been writing it for years. Does Lord Cleveden come from Warwickshire?" "Of course," said Dorothy, and then after a minute with a far-away look she added, "So do I." "Oh, Dorothy, then there really is a mystery? I thought it was only dressing-room gossip." "You have your secrets, Olive. Mayn't I be allowed mine? Though I suppose I haven't any legal right to it, I am going to put my crest on my note-paper, because I like the motto. It's a bugle-horn, and the motto is _J'y serai_. I needn't translate it for you, as you went to a convent in Belgium." Olive laughed affectionately at her friend's little joke, and they decided to reap the full advantage of a quiet Sunday by going to bed early. "He's a great dear, isn't he?" said Olive by the door of her room. "Oh, a great dear. How horrid it is that a man like that would be so misjudged by the world that he has to keep his name a secret. But, of course, I understand his point of view. I've had some experience of family pride, and it's a tremendous thing to be up against. However, it will be all the same a hundred years hence. Good night, darling. Your great man is a great, great success." "I'm so glad you like him, Dorothy dear." "I like him immensely." Just before Dorothy got into bed she called out to her friend, who in a dressing-gown of amber silk hurried to know what she wanted. "I only wanted to tell you that you simply must get this new tooth-paste. I like it immensely." "Oh, I'm glad it's a success," Olive exclaimed. "It's a great, great success."